Ancient Tales of a Kingdom not Unlike One You Know

Brethren, there was a consummate unchill upon the land. The scourge of the Yetis of Gawd continued unabated and the people of the kingdom looked unto Gambrach to deliver them from the pestilence. And in the midst of the anguish and gnashing of teeth, FemCallamitus, scribe of Gambrach and member of the King’s spinning quills went unto the people in Social Mediana to give them a message from the abundance of his heart.

“People of Middle Earth, why clingest thou so desperately unto thine ancestral inheritance of land even unto death? Wouldst it not be better to yield unto them and preserve thy lives? For it is written in the holiest scriptures, ‘what shall it profit a man to defend his ancestral bequeathment only to become an ancestor himself?’”

Yea, were the people utterly pissed at FemCallamitus and responded to him with severe vituperations.

Lo the Padipalians declared a week of mourning for the many dead but FemCallamitus was again provoked to fecal regurgitation. “Why declarest thou a mourning when only twenty score people have been killed by the Yetis of Gawd in the quadrannium of Gambrach? Know ye not that twenty-two score died by their hand during Gejoshaphat’s reign? Dost this not shew that ye dwell in greater safety under the beneficent most magnificent reign of King Gambrach?”

Behold the people rained curses on FemCallamitus for his utterance, hurling all manner of invectives at his physical and spiritual personage. So ferocious was the response in Social Mediana that it came unto Callamitusina, daughter of FemCallamitus and behold she wept for her father.

And lo it was in that day that the travails of Abushola at Conductivitis came to a close. For he had appealed to the Magistratum Supremex and the Lord Judex had declared him justified. Wherefore he came unto the Social Medianites and Digital Perusites with songs of praise, saying “First of, frock your clique and the morghulis ye claim, North-West side when we ride come equipped with game. Thou sayest thou wert a slayer but I trumped thy strife and I bust on Shiwajun, niccuh’s frocked for life!”

And lo, did Dinobetes join in the exulation with the song of the ancient bard Mikhail Bubblius, “Let me go hoooooooome, Apicuria sucks, Padipalia rocks, I wanna go home.”

Behold the songs of Abushola and Dinobetes were back to back hits. Gambrach thus feared that he would not be able to come to mainland Perusia, wherefore he issued a proclamation unto the people saying, “Wallahi Abushola is a great, fantastic guy! Tis not just I who say so, but the hallowed Magistratum Supremex. Ye knowest that I be the firmest believer in the sanctity of the Magistratum Supremex, even though I heed not their orders and they denied me justice when Shegolas and Yaraz and Gejoshaphat cheated me in electoralis, those bastards! But Abushola is justified and thus I declare that all should be like him.”

The people refused to be mocked and sent word back to the King that he deceiveth them not.

And of deceit, news came again to the people, brought by the news bearers of the Deluxe Timeses newsbringers. Yea, it was news of Lady KemShun, Purser and Gambrach’s councillor for the Coin. Yea, was it levelled against her that her Certificato of Nyansch was oluwollically torontonian and not of authentic dispensation. On hearing the news, Gambrach summoned Lady KemShun to Bedrock to ask if it was true.

“Lady KemShun, what is this I hear? Thou art not properly possessed of a Nyansch certificato?”

“Fam, my Nyansch be intact, man. Look, what it is yeah, is when I dropped into these ends from Jandinia with all the econominix vibes in my medulla oblongata, I was like, mans is too hot to be slumming wiv skreps on the camp tip, so I asked my homeboy Sia if he could swing down from the chandeliers and hook up da gyalsdem wiv rijinal papers, innit? And Sia was like, ‘yo babe, I gat you’ and he called in the Nyansch 5-0 and they sorted me out. I’m pristine, bredren!”

“Hmmm.”

“No need to be hmmm-ing king. I’s just trying to be like you – Magnificato sans Certificato!”

“What?”

“Boom, selecta! Leave it, y’get me, yeah?”

But the people heard the news of the Deluxe Timeses and the unchill boiled over a little more. Behold, Darth Soukey was ordered released by the Magistratum but the kingsmen of Gambrach obeyed them not. Shimolek succeded Ye-Gun as paterfamilias of Apicuria, after much internal fisticuffs and affray. The refrain from the people of Pottyscum came yet again in Social Mediana – that men are scum.

A deep sleep had descended upon the chronicler. Yea, it was the work of detractors that wished not the times to be recorded, of austerity. And for a season, the chronicler snoozed and heard not the voice of the Tword. Until, one morning, there was the sound of memorial rejoicing in the air which jolted him out of his reverie. It was a loud cacophony of revelers picnicking on the lane of memory, recalling the transition into inglory of Bar-Charr, the worst of the kings of the men of Gunn.

Bar-Charr was the head of the mutineers, the silent listener to every conversation, the unseen guest at every meal, a pestilence that flew by day, night and whatever was between. He was also bosom friend to Gambrach and to this we shall return. For behold, the people rejoiced as well at Gambrach’s beatification of Mor-Shoode. Cue our Nollywoodinian back-flashing…

Mor-Shoode was a man of immense wealth and the fore-runner in the first electoralis federalis following Gambrach’s mutiny as a man of Gunn in his previous reign. Gambrach was ousted by Gi-Dah in bloodless mutiny (twas even said that twas Darth Soukey that delivered the deathblow to Gambrach’s reign), and twas Gi-Dah on the throne at the time of the Mor-Shoodian polls.

It was a dire time in the kingdom, with many tired of the life and all its palavers. Behold, was there no work, no light, no food, no houses. The little water the people got was filled with filth. The meagre earnings the people earned were quickly eaten by the demons of transport. The schools caused headaches, the infirmaries didn’t work. Behold the people were tired of life. And Mor-Shoode wanted to end this, as did Bar-Tof, the other contender for the throne. Times were tough but Tof knew he was tough too – lo, perhaps even tougher.

And as the results came in from electoralis, Gi-Dah walked about alone in the throne room, looking at the throne wistfully. He ran his finger along the golden arm rest preparing to bid it goodbye. Suddenly, smoke began to billow from under the throne and a genie appeared.

“I am the genie of the throne, here to grant you one wish, King Gi-Dah.”

“A genie?” asked Gi-Dah, incredulously. “How didst thou survive the spiritual cleansing of the palace? The most potent marabouts from Timbuktu were brought hither to perform the rites.”

“True, King Gi-Dah. Behold, I hid from them in the chambers of Bar-Charr. Yea, even the Timbuktunian demontors fear him. But now, thou must make thy wish. What is it thou desirest?”

“The throne!” replied Gi-Dah without hesitation. But the genie looked disappointed. “Why asketh thou an elemental to do what lyeth within thy grasp to do? Thou art King. A man of Gunn no less.”

Wherefore Gi-Dah was imbued with a new swag and immediately ordered that the announcement of the electoralis results be halted. It was a moment of malady however, for when lucidity returned, Gi-Dah was heard mumbling to himself “Chaiiii, I don fokkup!!!”

And truly he had, for there was a monumental unleashing of unchill upon the entire gaddem kingdom. Every voice was raised against Gi-Dah in condemnation, including the voice of Gar-Knee, a fearless man of the legal persuasion.

Gi-Dah knew his number was up and thus ceded the throne to Listless Nekan. The less that is said about Listless, the better, as he was not bold enough to sit on the throne with more than one of his buttock cheeks at any point in time. The people begged Listless to be earnest in his reorganization of the Kingdom but it was to no avail. Bar-Charr seized his moment and pounced on the throne. From thence was there nary a speculum of gaddem chill in the Kingdom.

There was looting, pillaging and executions the likes of which the Kingdom had never seen. All walked in fear and trepidation under his eye. All apart from Mor-Shoode, who protested his stolen mandate all the way from Jandinia to Trumpstantinople. Bar-Charr had no time for dissent and quickly threw Mor-Shoode into the dungeons. Bar-Charr also imprisoned King Shegolas of Owurutas, and Shay Who the older brother of King Yaraz. He probably also threw the genie of the throne room into the dungeons for he was never seen nor heard from again.

Behold, even Bar-Charr commissioned an electoralis charade, ostensibly to hand over the throne from the people of Gunn to the ordinary people. And all the elders gathered unto themselves to contemplate accession to the throne.

“Under His Eye!” they declared, commencing the meeting. “Blessed be Bar-Charr forever!”

“Brethren, shall we contend with each other for the throne?” asked one.

“Oh thou poor joker,” one chided, “canst thou not see that we do not contend against flesh and blood but the ultimate principality and power? The ruler of darkness in the high places? Sho mo age e ni?”

“Many have perished under Bar-Charr’s reign for the mere suggestion that another should be king. What will then be the fate of those who make bold to reign in his stead?”

“Thou art right, brother. Let all of us go before him and beg him in his majestic wisdom to remain our King, Gunn or not.”

“It is settled.” And they departed.

But then came three queens from the far east who had seen Bar-Charr’s star and came to honour him bearing gifts of malus domestica. There was a malus domestica of gold, one of frankincense and one of myrrh. Bar-Charr did not know that it was forbidden to have a piece of each of the three gifts in his mouth at the same damn time and made the final mistake of his life, paying the ultimate price. The streets were filled with dancing and rejoicing and tears of joy – the day of Bar-Charr mortis. Whereafter, owing to the manner of his death, Bar-Charr become known in some parts of the kingdom as Apollonius.

Dool-Shalom was quickly chosen by the men of Gunn to be the new king but he was wary of the poisoned chalice of the throne and wanted to sit on it no longer than necessary. All hoped that he would free Mor-Shoode and declare him king. Yea, even emissaries from Trumpstantinople came visiting, led by Lady Shossana Beans and Mor-Shoode was brought unto them that they might see that he lived and breathed. But it quickly went awry, as Mor-Shoode took ill suddenly and none was able to revive him.

Here endeth the back-flashing of Nolly, save to say thatDool-Shalom ceded the throne to Shegolas after electoralis and the shadow of the Mor-Shoode hung over the Kings of the kingdom thereafter.

Back in Bedrock there was distress as the council of Gambrach sensed that retaining the throne in electoralis was going to be a tall order. Yea, was there a storming daniels of brains to see what could be done.

“Shall we get His Highness to do the Sharkew-Sharkew dance for the Social Medianites?” suggested FemCallamitus, “ye know how they love seeing their kings in dance.”

“No, no, no.” replied Shiwajun, “all these leave the King’s flanks open to renewed Wahala Morghulis. The King must imbibe the spirit of the Prophet Pushertease and endrake his enemies into silence as it was done in the days of old. Let him canonise and beatify Mor-Shoode.”

“WHA???” shouted Gar Bar. “Never! The people will see it for the Greek gift that it is.”

“And what do you know about Greeks and Trojans?” asked Kyocera. “A Greek gift could either be hiding soldiers or serve as firewood for the winter. And ye all know that winter is coming…. It is done, O Shiwajun. The proclamation will go out this evening.”

“You mean the King has already agr…” started FemCallamitus, trailing off when he saw the scowl on the face of Kyocera.

Thus, was it proclaimed in Social Mediana, to the Digital Perusites, to the Amalakites and even the dogs and baboons in the kingdom that Mor-Shoode, Gar Knee and Gar Nah (who would have been the Hand of Mor-Shoode) were to receive the kingdom’s highest honours. It was the eve of one score years since the demise of Bar-Charr and maigheeeeurddd, there was no gaddem chill in the land.

The unchill in the land was a tempestuous one and it billowed and blew onto the doorstep of Dinobetes Mellitus. Dinobetes was a senateen of the Nassholes, from House Apicuria. Many are the enchronicled chronicles of Dinobetes but none contained such unchill was about to be unleashed.

Thus it was that as Dinobetes was at the Winged Chariot Depot of Boo-Jar, that he was accosted by the constabulary. “Halt! In the name of the law!” the leader of the constables commanded him. “Thou darest interfere with a maker of the law?” queried Dino, “one on His Majesty’s Service to Jandinia for a glorious frolicking?”

But the constables were determined and Dinobetes looked on in regret as his homies departed for the supreme faffing, for the spirit of estacode had descended upon them and they could not think straight.

Wherefore Dinobetes sent a message unto the Twilistines, saying “Behold, I am ensnared of the constabulary!!!” and whereof the Twilistines responded, “Aha! Now thou canst dance thy famous Jekunimous Iyanensis dance, that all might know that thou art not a mere bluffer.”

In this moment, we now deploy the Nollywoodinic tool of flashbacking, for a flashback is required to tell of the Jekunimous Iyanensis dance. When twas said that Dinobetes’ scrolls of learning were of foggy origins, Dinobetes chanted and danced the Jekunimous Iyanensis, warning any who stood in his way of certain doom and damnation. Lo, did he raise the banner again, when the king in his home kingdom of Kogitamia, King Yaya Bellows, began the process to remove Dinobetes from senatii. Yea, did Dinobetes chant King Bellows’ name in Jekunimous Iyanensian dance, brandishing his chest upon stick legs – for verily, Dinobetes skippeth leg day. Here endeth the flashbacking.

And thus it was that news reached the Twilistines that Dinobetes was being hauled to Kogitamia from Boo Jar in locks, stocks and chains. Luckily for Dinobetes, the feast of Beegue Braw Thurr was over, otherwise the Twilistians & Social Medianites would not have been apprised of his perils.

And as they traversed the bumpy pathways and byways towards Kogitamia, Dinobetes thought to himself, “These gaddem constables of the gaddem constabulary! Could they not make my arrest a bit more glamorous? Know they not that it was me that the upstart bard sang the melody ‘Dinobetes, Dinobetes, No faeces?’ the ode to my pimping swag? Anyways, I know Abushola my Lord Warden of senatii will come for me. Then they will know that I am not a man to be arrested without pomp and circumstance.”

The constables were making jokes and passing round a wineskin – drinking on duty, that was how useless they were. But Dinobetes was thirsty and decided he would not refuse a swig if he was offered. As the gourd came closer to Dinobetes, he saw what looked like a vial being emptied in it.

“YE SHALT NOT GETTETH ME!!!” This was the cry of Dinobetes as he got too his feet and jumped out of the constabulary chariot. What happened next would take a few hundred years to be explained by a young man of science named Isaac Newton, but suffice it to say the forces of the moving chariot and the stationery ground converged in the stick legs of Dinobetes and yea, because he skippeth leg day, the result was that he crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Lo, did the constables carried him with haste to the infirmary, lest he perished in their hands and was beatified into St. Dinobetes of Melitus. And twas in the infirmary that Abushola finally came unto Dinobetes.

But Abushola cut him off. “Island in the stream, that is what thou art. This was also the word of the prophet. Tis not I, tis the ancient prophecy that must be fulfilled. Tarry awhile, for it is well with thee.” And he made to leave the infirmary.

“Lord Warden, wilt thou leave me at the mercy of King Yaya Bellows?”

“Dinobetes! Of course not! How could I leave thee defenceless? As we speak, I have summoned many of the youths of Kogitamia and they have come with their drums. Tonight has been declared the feast of Jekunimous Iyanensis. They will chant and dance in thine honour, that Bellows might see how popular you still are.”

Dinobetes was crestfallen and lo, did he lose all his chill. And far away in the kingdom of Dunamis, King El-Farquaad saw it all and rubbed his hands in glee. Who said Dr Shey Who of the senatii was untouchable?

But there was too much unchill in the land. The Yetis of Gawd continued to savage the Middle Earth kingdoms and their cries for help pierced the sleep of all. King Roe Chazz of Imolek had run out coin to build his greatest statue yet and levied an ad vlostaturem tax on all Imolekites. Nothing would get in the way of the statue. Osinoshin, the King’s hand, continued to come and go as he had previously done and yet again the people called him, Comer Comer Comer Come elyon.

The kingdoms were a gaddem mess and there was no gaddem chill anywhere.

And thus it was that Gambrach departed the Kingdom for Jandinia to attend Chorgasm, where once again the spirit of outspokenness came upon him, chasing away that spirit of hermitry that besieged him whenever he was in the Kingdom. Yea, he spake.

First of all, he spake to an assemblage of lovengers desirous of hearing him speak whilst wearing his famed robes of convalescence. And lo, he told them of the fecundity of the quagmire of the Gejoshaphatian quadrannium, of which all had heard ad nauseam. But he spake it again, for he had nary an other thing to say. “O Lovengers, the times of Gejoshaphat were terrible. Behold, there was plunder and pillage of the most amateurish sort. But yea, though we have successfully prosecuted no one, lo have I fixed it. And I deserve some accolades. Whorwhaa.”

Lo, they gave him some accolades.

And drunk on the lovengerous accolades, Gambrach stepped into the grand Chorgasm arena to speak with the other chorganisms who had come from afar. Wherefore they asked him again, at the end of the day’s proceedings, “O great Gambrach of 37 Kingdoms, wilt thou give us a parting word about thy kingdom? Canst we bring our merchandise to North Easteros? And why didst thou not sign Pax Freekanah?”

“You see, in the time of Gejoshaphat,” began Gambrach, to murmurs of Oh shit, not this shit gaddem parable again??? Fortunately, Gambrach was in the land of the meisters and his Many Years Disease ears had just been reset. He abridged his Gejoshaphatian lamentation.

“Okay, okay,” he said, “let me move on to North Easteros. Even though the Haramites of Boko have attempted to capitalise on the technicality of our technical vanquishment of their forces, I can say without too much fear of a reprisal attack from them that North Easteros is somewhat, kind of, like, a bit okayish now. Feel free to bring thy merchandise. As for the other problems affecting the region, I canst not tell a lie, my kingdom brims with the indiscipline of procreation. Lazy people being fruitful and multiplying with reckless abandon. Are they Adam? Was it they who were given the charge? And because like me, many have not even their scroll de minimis, they think like me they are entitled to Kingly perks. Imagine!?!”

Imagine indeed, for the rant of Gambrach was heard on Social Mediana, in Twilistia and even the land of the Digital Perusites. And there was no gaddem chill – for Gambrach had branded them sloths. There was pandemonium as all disavowed the appellation.

FemCallamitus roared into action in defence of his liege, protesting, “People of the land, Gambrach demarketeth thee always when abroad for thine own good. Look at the lifestyles of decadence and seedless grapes they live in these countries – these will not aid us on our rice sufficiency odyssey. Think!”

But the people were not swayed. And there was more unchill to come. For the news bearers of the Sterling Times had brought news into the Kingdom, of Lady Kem Shun, Abushola and Ga Rah and monies spent, not included in the kingdom’s coinage. Lady Kem Shun heard the allegation and was furious. Yea, she went into Twilistia to address it.

“Whaah gwan bluds? What dis ting mans is hearing ‘bout extra-budgetary coins for the mandems of the senatii and junior senatii Nassholes? Dis is a wicked allegations of manifestations of appropriations and infestations inna de vibrations.”

Huh? The people paused, puzzled, for no one understood whether she denied it or not.

“Sterling Times issa wasteman paper. Dem nuh know nothing about the econominix. I is the queen of econominix, ya hear me now? Brrrr!”

Twas the most confusing of denials ever. And Abushola and Ga Rah said nought.

Then came yet more news of stupendous coinings, for Gambrach had taken a gazillion shekels from the Iron Bank of Boo Jar without the endorsement of the Nassholes. They were nassholes, true, but still, this was in egregious breach of the law of the land.

“Knowest thou not, that this is a dethronement-worthy offence?” the people cried unto Gambrach.

“For reals?” Gambrach asked in disbelief. “Dethronement? Even when millions came out to show the people of the south how famous I still am?”

“The law is the law, dude,” came the irreverent answer.

“What shall we tell the people?” asked a subdued Gambrach. “I took this coin not for myself but for the good of the kingdom. Twas to buy a supersonic megatronic spectroscopic flight of Torskanoe fantasy.”

“Yes, Majesty, but they are not due from Trumpstantinople for another two years!”

“For reals????” asked Gambrach.

“Yes, for reals! Shiiii, the coinage for the year is yet to be read even!”

“Sire, shall we just tell them that you did not know?” suggested Gar Bar.

“Can’t we blame it on Gejoshaphat?” asked Gambrach.

“Come now, Sire…”

“Okay, okay, alright. Tell them yet again that I did not know.”

Yea, Gar Bar went into the land and told the people and there was a great eruption of laughter at the absurdity of it all. There no chill but there was laughter. And it was from that day that Gambrach was given a new regnal name. No longer would he merely be called Gambrach. He was now to be known as Gambrach Jon Snow.

Following the day of Shiwajunfest, news reached the Chronicler that the Tword had found another soul worthy of the divine revelations of unchill. But it seemed this secret chronicler did not in fact know that he had been imbued of the Tword.

The secret chronicler received Tword of Asos, daughter of Gambrach, to whom her husband Noodlinho had now done what Dinobetes Mellitus had threatened to do to Remy Ma, wife of Shiwajun – behold, he had known her and she was with child. And thus was it chronicled by the secret chronicler –

“Only Noodlinho and his wife, Asos, know what it is about their union that drives them to perpetuate one of the most enviable and durable signs of love. They got married last year in a savor of celebritine ceremony. And to prove their commitment, abiding love for each other, and to increase the population of the Kingdom, Asos, we gathered is expecting Noodlinho’s baby. Casting a probing look at the ever reticent Asos when sighted at an event recently, it was glaring to all wandering eyes that she has been noticeably put on a 9-month maternal course by ‘Linho through a legitimate conjugal collaboration. Looking so robust and bigger than her pre-marital figure, the widely acknowledged self-disciplined lady was cynosure of all eyes as onlookers turned their attention on her and began to make some biological permutations.” [He has such a way with words, this secret chronicler.]

Thus was it said of the secret chronicler, “Blessed is he that chronicles without knowing that he chronicles, for out of his quill poureth pure bants.”

In the Crescent Lakes kingdom of King Yade-Ben, after much houdini and alapeanutbuttersandwiches, the time came for the Coinage of Telepathic Apparitional Manifestations (also known as the Coinage of Stalgmighty Stalctites) to be passed into law. The CrescentLakian senatii had read the increadible coinage of fantasy, knowing full well that to achieve this coinage of supremest deficit, Yade-Ben would have to be a miracle-working king of kings. Wherefore they renamed him Yezus.

Behold, as the hour of promulgation drew nigh, the king closed his eyes and raised his hand into the air. The CrescentLakian royal quill was handed to him, and a strong wind began to blow in the auditorium. “Brethren CrescentLakians, this arrogant coinage of hope is an ambiguous expression of your mood. It is historic and euphoric. It is a counterintuitive deficit to definitely fix it. Behold, I append my glorious seal of razzmatazz and bombastic opprobrium.”

A lightning bolt fell from the heavens and then there was calm. “It is done!” proclaimed the Chief Griot. “All hail the king!”

Yezus wept.

Lady Kem-Shun, Gambrach’s Councillor for the Coin, heard of the proceedings in Crescent Lakes and thought to examine the Kingdom’s vaults, to see how much remained. She drew her abacus and after a few beads, she was convinced something was amiss. “Whaaagwan inna dis place, mate? Hath Ser Magoo, head of the Everly Failing at Convictions Commission not brought forth all that he recovereth? Dis a wasteman ting!” But Magoo unlooked.

In Bedrock, Gambrach summoned his Spinning Quills, for he had an announcement of the utmost importance to make to them. “Scribes, I have decided that I will put myself forward in contention at electoralis federalis.”

“Sire,” said Gar Bar, with some caution, “but what about the 3 horsemen of the Kakocalypse – Shegolas, Gi Dah and Dan Jumanji have all turned against thee…”

“Aye. But there remaineth one horseman yet – Dool Shalom. He may yet be swayed. And if he be swayed, he may yet sway the other 3. And even if he not be swayed, I am Gambrach. I am King. I am 10 million underaged ballots in the gaddem bank, gaddemmit!”

“Hail our beloved King!” proclaimed Gyretta and Bee Ree.

“Good, good.” said Gambrach. “Now tell them to ready the winged Chariot.”

“Art thou going into the land to tell the people? Into South Easteros to win over the forlorn of the Ipobusinian mischief makers?” asked FemCallamitus.

“Geez, no way man! That’s what I have you guys for. Quillers should get to quilling. I’m off to Jandinia, biyotches!”

“But Majesty,” said Bee Ree, the Chorgasm meeting isn’t for another 10 days…”

Gambrach smiled and said, “Estacode, baby! And if I decide to make an early detour to see the meisters, obu gini any bagger’s consain? Peace out.”

And as Gambrach left in his winged chariot, a delirious spirit descended upon FemCallamitus and he entered into Social Mediania and began to prophesy –

“Behold the ancient words, ever true, written by the Prophet Terrgee, for me and you, deep down in the lungu of the Zanga. Take heed, any that would run against Gambrach in electoralis, can they run faster than the wind? Can they flow faster than a river? Can they rise higher than a mountain? Nay! Hear the words of the Prophet Terrgee yet again, ‘thou canst only run, run, run, run, past Gambrach G, if thou runnest mad!”

And the people heard it. And there was no gaddem chill in the kingdom.

The day of Dan Jumanji was a day of sorrow and regret for the courtiers of Gambrach. “Mene mene tekel upharsin,” wept FemCallamitus.

“Oh, hush!” said Gyretta, as she sipped from her stein of sweet pal mectar. “Tis a time to do more than weeping and speaking in strange tongues,” she said with a strong look of disapproval.

“But I promised the wailer horde fresh Gambrachian wine in the fullness of time, gaddemit! Electoralis is less than 12 moons away. Behold, the fullness of time becometh the shortage and emptiness of time.”

“Have ye heard of the Three Kings of Disorient? No? Well, I shall send them a raven. Gar Bar, you just speak to Mefilius and make sure provision is made to give them a fitting reception and sending off *wink* for their visit.”

“Consider it done, m’lady,” replied Gar Bar.

The following day, Gambrach sat in the throne room, all depressed. Bee Ree was announced and entered into his presence. As ever, Moborius was seated in a corner, waiting with brush and canvas to record the moments for posterity. Gambrach was confused at her buoyant disposition, but he said nothing.

“Your majesty, I have a surprise for you!!! I present to you the 3 Kings of Disorient!”

The lights dimmed in the throne room, which pissed Moborious off, for he could not see what to paint. Suddenly a spotlight shone on the door and there was smoke and soft music playing. A deep voice proclaimed loudly, “Behold the 3 Kings of Disorient who have voyaged to see King Gambrach from the occident, for they have seen his star in the sky! Their names are Momma Loo Thurr, Cousin Loo Thurr and Nephew Loo Thurr. And the 3 kings began to sing.

We three kings of disorient are

Bearing gifts we traverse afar

Airports, traffic, roads and potholes

Following Gambrach’s star

O – o star of progress, star of praise

Star to end corruption’s days

Boko defeating

Gaffe repeating

Strict and Spartan in his ways

When their song ended, Momma Loo Thur embraced Gambrach, and handed him an enribboned scroll. Shittinski was alarmed at such close contact between unmarried adults and hurriedly left the throne room. Cousin Loo Thur just stood there like a statue and King Roe Chazz looked at her lustfully.

Nephew Loo Thurr then spoke. “We of the famous global Loo Thurr dynasty have viewed Gambrach from afar. Yea, his star doth shine brightly. The most famous of the Loo Thurrs, that is Remy, had a dream that everyone would be equal. And look how equality sweepeth across thy Kingdom. For this reason, for the very first time in Freekah, in the global world, we the Loo Thurrs hereby present him the Concocted Black Month of Black Excellence of Black Historical and Exceptional African Black Supersonic Leadership Award of Blackness 2018. Look, like it was said by the ancient Russian philosopher Igwenitzof Tupacizinsky, Gambrach deserves some accolades!”

“Accolades!” echoed Lady Bee Ree.

“Gambrach has paid his dues!” continued Nephew. “Paid in full!” responded Bee Ree.

Wherefore Moborious painted the moment in full and the Spinning Quills of Gambrach – Lar Yi, Bee Ree, Gar Bar, FemCallamitus, Bashally and Gyretta – louded it unto the ends of the Kingdom. And there was no gaddem chill in the land, for the people were confused. “And canst it be that Gambrach should gain an interest in Remy Loo Thurr’s fame?” they asked one another.

But then news came unto the Social Medianites from the chambers of the children of Remy Loo Thurr and his wife Scottetta that the 3 Kings of Disorient were not sent of them to confer any accolades on Gambrach. And lo, it was another own goal, wherefore Gambrach was known for a moment as Gambrach Escobar. Yea, had the real Loo Thurr’s VAR’d Gambrach and his quills, and even their most ardent fans were handfallen.

“What do we do now, great and wise king?” a forlorn Lar Yi enquired. “Shall I wax another improbable fable of mendacity?”

“No,” said Gambrach as he read a scroll that the raven master had just handed to him. The raven had come from Gideria. A smile played across Gambrach’s face.

“Ha ha!” he chuckled. “Tis the day of Shiwajunfest! Maigheeeurd, I’m going to get turnt again! Tell King Ambsalom of Gideria to block every gaddem road and close every gaddem port for I come thither! That will teach those Social Medianites of Gideria!”

Ambsalom hurriedly shut Gideria down. And in all the land, a single gaddem modicum of chill, nary a gaddem speculum even, could not be found.

There was no chill in the heart of the chronicler either, for the Tword was infused with the spirit of the Killmonger and demanded of the chronicler, “IS THIS YOUR CHRONICLE?????”

Thus it was in the tenth month of the third year of the first quadrannium of the reign of Gambrach, that the spirit of the Tword descended upon Shay Who, a senateen of the the kingdom of Dunamis, that is the kingdom of King El-Farquaad. And as the Tword came upon Shay Who, he began to speak, “Behold, o ye people of the Kingdom, ye blessed people which suffereth under the pestilences of thy kings and princes, who eat the fat of the land and leave thee with the pickings. Lo, I am one of them. And I declare to ye this day, that we are paid 14 million shekels from the King’s coin every gaddem month!” And the spirit departed from him, and yea knew he not what he hath done.

The people heard it and were shook to their bones. 14 million shekels??? Wherefore the other senateens gathered themselves as unto a choir, and sang unto senateen Shay Who, the words of the bard Shamsudeen Smeeth, “You say we’re crazy, but you do not know what you have done, and if you’re feeling guilty, just know that you’re the only one!”

And as they sang the ditty, feeling pretty and witty, there was a man of Oyossinia named Veeque Thaw, who the song greatly troubled. He was troubled for he had just been dismissed from the employ of Shittinski, the shit councillor of Gambrach for matters of communications. Shittinski was also of Oyossinia and had made no secret of his desire to succeed King Jimobite once his reign was ended. It was a fate dreaded by all good people of Oyossinia.

Veeque had departed the service of Shittinski but had 14 million shekels outstanding in his pay. He then determined in his heart to write to Shittinksi. But it could not be an ordinary letter. It had to be a scrollage of pomp and circumstance and it had to be shewn to all in Social Mediana. He picked up his quill and parchment and wrote –

Yea, when Shittinski read the letter, he was offended right from his beard into his gloved hand. “This peasant thinketh he can take on a pharisee in the exchange of letters? He knoweth not what he hath started. IT. IS. ON!”

Wherefore Shittinski, who some of the people had fondly started referring to as Bullshittu, gathered his elite scribes and charged them to respond in kind to Veeque Thaw. Wherefore they replied, also into all of Social Mediana –

Yea, the people were amazed at the pedantry of the Bullshittinski clan.

In Gideria, the voice of the people had risen against King Ambsalom, the favoured of Shiwajun. Ambsalom had raised homage taxes in the state and his defenders did their feeble best to convince Giderians it was not to build the electoralis war chest of Shiwajun. And his counsellors came into his palace to let him know that the grumblings of the people were reaching a crescendo and something needed to be done.

“Are they not entertained by the antics of Dinobetes Mellitus,” asked Ambsalom. “Does his war of jestery with King Bellows in Kogitaria, not impalliate their angst?”

“No, O king of the hidden coinage,” they responded. “This is not Kogitaria. It takes more than Kingly and senteenly burlesque to assuage Giderian anger.”

“But I am on a most holy mission to clean up Gideria. Some have rightly called it a Holy Shiwajunihad. My vision is to clean up the many messes we have in this Kingdom.”

“That is a most excellent idea, Your Highness. We shall embark on a project to actualise your vision of scraping the filth off Gideria. Behold, the project shall be called visionscrapings. And the people will be most pleased.”

“Go ye then, and do as ye sayest.”

Thus, all over Gideria, the visionscrapings descended to scrape away the filth. Yea, they scraped and scraped and scraped but Gideria seemed more and more unscrapable. And the voice of Giderians grew louder in unchill.

And as the unchill brewed, news came from Trumpstantinople of the tribe of the Wentbridge Scatterlyticans, who had broken into the Book of Faces. The Scatterlyticans were almost as invasive as the Yetis of Gawd, and had been offered millions of Theresan shekels to break also into the secret library of Gambrach, to reveal the musings of Gambrach to the camp of Gejoshaphat during electoralis. But it was a gaddem waste of money, for Gejoshaphat was defeated, and also because the secret library of Gambrach was bare, for nothing was there.

Lo, as the invasiveness of the Yetis of Gawd persisted, the voice was heard all over Digital Perusia and Social Mediana of Dan Jumanji. Like Gambrach, Shegolas and Gi Dah, he was also a man of Gunn. Yea, like the Farhni Kaynic Illuminatics, he was the unseen hand behind the many quadrannia of the men of the Gunn when they took the throne. All the Kings of Gunn rolled the dice with Dan Jumanji.

And like Shay Who, the Tword also descended upon Dan Jumanji, making him break rank and speak unnatural words unto the people. “Brethren, the time cometh when ye all must pick up thy weapons to defend thyselves against the hordes of the Yetis of Gawd. For the King’s Armies are with them, not with thee!”

Wherefore, in unchill, a Twillistian, AndyRoid broke into ancient tongues, saying, “Entropy has eroded the equilibrium within the cassava solution via an excessive infusion of dihydrogen oxide.” Yea, water passeth garri.

The Kingdom of Twillistia suffereth unchill and the chronicler recordeth it by force. Tributaries of unrest flowed unrelenting into the river of unchill, from which the people bathed and cooked and swum. It was an extreme age and King Gambrach suffered contentions from many sides.

Gambrach had received yet another letter beseeching him to abandon electoralis, on this occasion from Gi Dah, another of the Kings of quadrannia past. But Gambrach was unyielding, so the Tword sent 2 plagues into the land. Well, twas only one plague, but doubly manifested – for a snake and a monkey made off with bags of the Kingdom’s coin.

Yea, when Gambrach heard it, he was troubled. “Behold, I had believed in my heart that the Furious Five were doers of good. Wilt Master Mantis and Master Crane and the Dragon Warrior Kung-Fu Panda also invade our land to steal our coin? Which one of ye can summon Master Oogway from the spirit realm to stop this?”

And Gar Bar responded, “there is a young man in the land, named Par Dee, son of Knoo Gar – he is a 7th dan of the 29th chamber of the trojan horse in the shaolin temple. Yea, he possesseth a blackened belt in Abandex style, having trained under Master Oogway himself. Shall I send for him?” But Par Dee was away from the Kingdom, on a clandestine odyssey of leonine conquests, with his consigliere, Ed Gar.

The Yetis of Gawd continue to ravage the land, sad for the loss of the traditional routes of ancient ancestral migrations. And the forces of Gambrach comprehendeth them not. Wherefore Gambrach charged the head of his constabulary, Heebra Driss saying, “Go thou into Ben Way and depart not therefrom until thou subduest the Yetis.” But Heebra Driss hath a turnup he couldest not miss for any gaddem thing in the world. And yea, he went to get turnt.

And the people were amazed that the constabulary head could disobey the King without consequence but FemCallamitus set the record straight, saying “Oh ye ignorant heifers! Know ye not that the Head Constable is accountable to the Mystical Confederation of Constables and not to the King?” Yea, even Gambrach was confused by the utterance of FemCallamitus and sent for Heebra Driss to ask where exactly the mystical confederation was located.

Alas, tragedy struck as Heebra Driss proceeded to Bedrock. Ndour, the son of Gambrach had struck a horse racing wager with his companion, to find out whose fine Arabian steed was the swiftest of foot. Behold, they raced through the streets of Boo Jar, at breakneck pace but the horses suddenly came upon a stretch of road untended to by the Road Repairers Counselate, under the stewardship of Flasholas, Gambrach’s tripartite Counsellor. And thus it was that the horses reared and threw their riders and all feared for Ndour and his unnamed friend.

Heebra Driss witnessed it all and quickly summoned Solomon Grundy, Gambrach’s Counsellor for Sanguinity. Grundy gathered all the leading physicians in the land and constituted them into the National Council for the Urgent Recovery of Ndour (NACOFURN) and chaired it. Lo, NACOFURN conjured all the ancient healing magic of the land to guide Ndour back to health. It was not easy and they had to transplant some of Gambrach’s fiddledeoxyribonucleicacid into Ndour’s marrow to rescue him. Yea, was he rescued and Ndour, like his father, became as fit as a fiddle. The Tword be praised.

And with the recovery of Ndour, Gambrach’s legend waxed stronger in North Easteros. “He is so spartan”, the people said, “that his own son, the prince and sole heir, was not thrown from a chariot of gold. Nay! He rode on a horse like the rest of us.” And the Arabian breeders herd of it and yea, they were tickled.

Lo, Gambrach would have been depressed by the near miss but behold 2 of his homies were giving out the hands of their daughters in marriage and the mother of all litness was about to descend into the city of Boo Jar.

First was the wedding of the Skinnee Ma, daughter of Lee Ko, the richest man in all of Freekah. Yea, was it turnt, with even the Gates of Billy (not a scandal) in attendance. From there, twas the wedding of Venus de Milola, daughter of Osinoshin to the son of the legendary courtesan to all the queens in Boo Jar since the dawn of time, Lady Ga Sha. Like the Chronicler, thou also wonderest the groom of Skinnee Ma, right? Right? RIGHT???

And in the middle of getting turnt, Gar Bar came to fetch Gambrach for he was due to depart to Kagamestan to sign a treaty to marketise the kingdoms of Freekah. But Gambrach was all partied out. And Kagamestan was not Jandinia. “I have no desire to go to Kagamestan”, Gambrach said to Gar Bar. “As the crippled giant of Freekah, can we not tell them it will take us six months to limp to Kagamestan?”

“What is the treaty for, anyway?” asked Gambrach. “Our Kings of previous quadrannia do not keep their loot in Kagamestan – why do we need to sign a treaty with them?”

“Sire, we are signing the treaty so that the people of Freekah can trade freely with one another.”

“Freely? What is that? You mean they won’t pay”

“Yes sire. But then neither will we.”

“Wait first. No further excise?”

“No sire.”

“My ride or die homeboy Brah Meed won’t be able to charge them excise for bringing their goods? The coinage he counts for me daily will diminish?”

“Possibly, sire.”

“WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME? WTF IS THIS??? Please, please, please, this is not the way of the Wakandans. I need to calm my navvs and think a bit about this.”

And the people heard it and were troubled. It was whispered that the King had stumbled onto some ancient scrolls telling the prophecy of a land to come. Wakandanese had filtered even into House Apicura, with electoralis at hand.

Lo, there was also a gushing of wahala morghulis in House Apicuria, with the housemen jostling for primacy in the coming shenanigans of electoralis. Gambrach knew he was piss poor at political gymnastics and sent for Shiwajun again.

“Yo, gee. What’s up? Where’s the wahala morghulis I wished thee to give Shegolas? And before thou answerest seest thou not our own wahala morghulis? Wilst thou not purge Apicuria of it? And again what is this shit of bull freedom of trade in Kagamestan? Canst thou not get me out of it?”

Yea, did Shiwajun pause and then, when he spoke, launched he into the most epic of rants. “O Gambrach, why lamentest thou? Have ye not heard of what is called – o how canst I translate it from my mother tongue – buharitage? Thou contendeth electoralis as an Annipalopulan and once did thou lose, yea even unto the second time. This is thy buharitage. Thou contendest as a Corpuconian and again thy buharitage preventeth ascension not once but twice. Behold, thou carriest on thy back 4 electorales of buharitage and twas not until my arrival in thy camp that thou couldest ascend. Thou ascendest finish, thou come forgeteth me and my guys. Thy buharitage cometh back to haunt thee now and now thou rememberest Shiwajun. To remove the burden of your buharitage. Issokay, I wilt do thy bidding. Just make sure that fool Yay Goon, stays out of my way.”

And the people heard of it and there was no gaddem chill in the entire kingdom!

Brethren, it was a time of cosmic unchills, back to back to back. The pestilences of petrolatic famine (which flew by day) and the murderous Yetis of Gawd (which flew by night) did not abate. Still, Gambrach said nothing. Lo, the people groaned in their homes, in the fields and in the temples and in the synagogues.

And when the keepers of the temples and synagogues heard the groaning, they tried to unlook and unhear it as they had for several quadrannia. But this was no ordinary groaning – it was groaning that had doh re me fa soh la ti do embedded in it. Behold, the spirit of pulpito incandescenta descended on the keepers of the temples and synagogues, causing them to cry in unison, “Procure ye thy cards of enfrachisement, for electoralis is at hand! Gambrach the Vanished hath become Gambrach the Deaf and Gambrach the Blind!” Yea, were they joined by the High Priest of the Illuminati, Farhni Kay.

The Deliverance Squad Squadron, in the tension of their unlooking of the Yetis of Gawd, heard the temple keepers and found their proclamation repugnant to the gambrachene spirit of which the squadron was possessed. And so they delivered Farhni Kay and some temple keepers to the squadron dungeons for a time. And Farhni Kay regaled them with the many legends of the unseen hand of the illuminati. The squadron could only take it for so long and they quickly released the men that they had delivered.

Gar Bar and FemCallamitus came unto Gambrach to tell him that the unchill in the land was overflowing its banks and he needed to do something. Gambrach agreed. Wherefore he summoned the leaders of the Apicureans to a banquet at Bedrock. Yea, it was tagged of hash as #BedBanq. Behold, Gambrach said unto them, “I welcome ye all to this banquet feast which we have tagged of hash ‘BedBanq’. I summoned ye hither to give thee a charge, nay, a great commission. After ye have eaten of the fat of my kitchen, go ye then unto the ends of the Kingdom to tell the people that I have heard their gaddem whining. Wheeeeen-wheeeen-wheeeen, like babies. I have heard and tis enough! For I am never ever in a hurry to accomplish aught. Why? Just look at the piss poor cabinet it took me 6 moons to select! Had I been in a hurry, would they not have been even more dismal? So, sing after me… Pacito, pacito…”

Behold, the people heard it but the unchill was already of cosmic proportions. It couldn’t get any worse.

Then, it was told unto the Twilistians by the Kalahari Newsbearers that Bar Kar, Gambrach’s chief lawman (who had by now convinced everyone that the N was silent), had approached the magistrates for an injunctio dawonduro against the senatii. “My Lords,” he prayed the magistrates, “give me a dawonduro against senatii, for they probe my facilitation of the return of Oje Marina.”

“Can senatii not investigate malfeasance by the King’s men?” asked the magistrates.

“Not when it will implicate them, gaddemmit!!!” replied Bar Kar.

Behold, before the magistrates could give their verdict, Bar Kar was summoned back to Bedrock with urgency, by Kyocera. Lady Yeesha, the King’s wife, was sending word into Twilistia and Social Mediana. Lo, the word she was sending were the re-sent words of senateen Bruce Sensey Lee and his brethren, condemning Gambrach’s seemingly tacit endorsement of the Yetis of Gawd.

The people could not believe their eyes and ears! Could the King’s wife be amplifying words raised against her King? But before the people could say ‘my yeti allure’, her daughter, Asos, also sent a parable into Social Mediana, of an impending day of doom!

But Gambrach’s unlooking game was strong. And it was in that day that he announced that King Roe Chazz of Imolek, who had made Imolek famous for his massive erections, wouldst be his electoralis coordinator in the Easterosi kingdoms. Roe Chazz licked his lips and grabbed his crotch at the news. His finest work was still ahead of him.

And as the people muttered and the unchill rumbled on, suddenly a loud trumpet sound rent the air. Many thought it was the moment they would be caught up in the sky – they were ready to go, to be honest, for the unchill in the kingdom was indeed severe – but it was not yet that time. No. The trumpets were blown from the royal courts of King Shegolas of Owurutas, who preceded Mah Roo and Gejoshaphat on the throne. Like Gambrach, Shegolas had also reigned previously in quadrannia long ago, as a Man of Gunn (the chronology of the kings of the kingdom is recorded here). Unlike Gambrach who could not produce his scroll de minimis however, Shegolas was devoted to learning and had just been awarded a Pimping Happening Daddy scroll. Behold, it was turnt.

Yea, the trumpet blew for King Shegolas was about to make an important declaration. Nay, it was an epistle, enscrolled in a scroll. Lo, it was unscrolled and read to the people. And maaaaaiiiiiigheeeeeeeurdddddd, there was no gaddem chill in the stratos. It read –

“Thou unlookest the works of the Yetis of Gawd, looking for lands to reward them with. Thou sayest thou fighteth corruption, yet your guy eateth Kwarapta Intrusivo and walketh free.

“And I defended thee at electoralis when thy enemies claimed that the spirit of Nepotismo dwelt strongly within thee. Yet thou puttest all the swords and arrows and spears of the kingdom under the charge of thy kinsmen. In the words of the ancient prophet Lateefus Kayodensis, “WHAT KIND OF JOB YOU DOING???”

“My guy, just quit. Move on. Go home and milk some cows, mehn. If thou lovest the kingdom, thou wilt not contend electoralis. We cannot afford to have a King that liveth in the palace of Madam Two Swords anymore. Selah.”

Of course, there was no gaddem chill in the land.

Now, Gambrach’s unlooking game was the best in the world but even he could not unlook the epistle of Shegolas. Immediately, he summoned Shiwajun and Candy B, SouthWesterosi gentry and Apicureans of stature.

“Shiwajun, I need you to unleash the Wahala Morghulis on Shegolas. Right away. This one, I am in a hurry to do. Wahala Morghulis now!”

And thus it was in the land that the Tides of Yule ebbed and a glorious new year was born. The famine petrolatum persisted as, between the Three Wise Men of Petrolatum – Gambrach who was his own counsellor for petrolatum, E-Dawg who was the sub-counsellor & Baruch who led the King’s Drillmen, as well as the aforetold puppyfication of E-Dawg – none could tell why it remained scarce. Gambrach could not tell anything, to be fair to him, as he spoke to the people with ever reducing frequency.

Yea, it was in the fervency of that moment of unchill that Lady Zek Way came unto the Twilistians and declared, “Behold, as the season of electoralis descendeth upon us like a smog of depravity, let the houses of Padipalia and Apicuria take heed that today, I brandish a red plank of eviction. For their Kings and Counsellors have failed us and the time for a new reign must be at hand. Lo, the dawn of the age of the Third Force!”

“But thou wert counsellor to a Padipalian king,” the Bullshit MaChinery arm of the Lovengers responded. “Do you simply rage because Gambrach giveth thee not face?”

Wherefore she chuckled and said unto them in intermittent caplocks,”I have NEITHER need for face FROM Gambrach, nor the APPROVAL of thE LEAGUE of SCOFfers with which HE surrounds HIMSELF. But yea, SHALL I RAISE a league of red PLANKERS who will stand FOR a thiRD foRCE of CREDIBILITY!”

“But Gambrach is a good king!” the Lovengers protested, “Where is thy counterfactual evidence???”

But before Lady Zek Way could respond, the air was filled with cries of despair from the Palace of King of Autumn of Ben-Way. The Benwegians were a peaceful people, blessed by the gods with the most fertile earth in the 37 kingdoms. But from the lands further north came a league of fearsome pastoral herdsmen who led their flocks wherever they gaddem felt like. For them, nothing was more sacred than the hunger of their flock. Wherever the owners of farmlands resisted them, these herdsman came back with such fire and fury the likes of which the farmers had never seen. Like Gambrach and El-Farquaad, these herdsmen were Fulannisters, and ye know the saying of El-Farquaad that “Fulannisters always collect their debts.” Lo, these herdsmen were of a wider union gang, who called themselves the Yetis of Gawd.

The Fulannister Pastoralists struck the Benwegians most mightily, killing several and then 3 score and a baker’s dozen.

King Autumn wept.

All the way to Bedrock, King Autumn wept, for like the people of the 37 kingdoms, he needed to hear Gambrach’s words of consolation. The people also thought there would be another sighting of the Waltzing Python of the King’s Armies for Car Knoo and his Ipobusinians had done far less before the armies swooped in and baptised him in the ocean of disappearance. But Gambrach said naught and there was great unchill in the land.

“Wawu!!!!” cried the people, “Gambrach saith nothing. Behold, he condemneth not the Yetis of Gawd. Is it because, like him, they are also Fulannisters?”

Wherefore FemCallamitus, in eager subservience, rushed into Twilistia protesting, “No, no, no. How canst ye say these despicable things against Gambrach the most noble, of the softest side? Know ye not that the Yetis slew 45,678,900 and three quarters under the reign of Gejoshaphat? Only 45,678, 552 have been slain under Gambrach, shewing that the Yetis are far less deadly under the reign of a fellow Fulannister.”

And the rumble of unchill grew, for the people could not fathom how nothing was unfathomable for FemCallamitus. But there was more unchill to come, for the Head Yeti had sent word into Twilistia. “Tis true that we slew the Benwegians. They were slain because after we passed through their kingdom, we saw that our livestock had reduced in number. It was a debt that was owed to us and ye knowest the ancient saying – a Fulannister always collects his debts.”

And a mist of fiery and furious unchill descended upon the land. There was no gaddem chill in the land.

There was also sadness in a corner of Twilistia, for Van Chee, a friend and brother to many and a dedicated student of the scrolls of the chronicles had crossed the Great Divide. He was greatly loved.